


Unforeseen (But No Surprise)

by TheKissApple



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: 2x07, Coda, HE BETTER GET SAVED TONIGHT, M/M, kidnapped Oliver, oliver gets saved, worried Connor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-12
Updated: 2015-11-12
Packaged: 2018-05-01 07:19:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5197208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheKissApple/pseuds/TheKissApple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>2x07 Coda. Oliver gets saved</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unforeseen (But No Surprise)

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the song 'War' by Kensington. Thank you for reading my work!

Oliver really really tries to remain calm, but it's so hard. He knows rationally, that if this killer is anything, it's smart. And insane. But also smart. Because he framed the Habstalls and he somehow figured out that Oliver was involved. So he must know that Annalise is on the case and that Connor is linked to her, so this is all a huge threat. The killer probably knows that if he kills Oliver, they will do anything to hunt him down. So if he keeps Oliver alive, he can use him to make a deal. 

 

Maybe. Possibly. Hopefully. _Fuck_.

 

A traitorous tear runs down his face. He tries to get his mind to work again. He's not at some lost place, he's at Phillip's house. It's not impossible to find. It's simply in a normal, everyday neighbourhood. At least, that's what he made out when he was dragged out of the car. All they have to do to find him, is find his address.

 

Except, he's the hacker and there is no way they can enter Oliver's computer and he never gave Connor the password and _fuck._

 

Oliver tries to breathe normally through his nose, because his mouth is taped. If he panics, he'll probably pass out soon and he can't use that. He's bound to the bed and Philip is in the kitchen. As far as Oliver can see, he's pouring himself a drink. He downs it in one go and then refills the glass.

 

Oliver tries not to shake at the thought of what people can do when they're drunk.

 

Philip walks into the bedroom and offers him the glass. 'It's whiskey.' He says, but Oliver shakes his head. Philip shrugs and takes a sip himself. He looks at Oliver with an intense glare and Oliver can't help but shudder. 

 

'You know, I didn't want to do this. You look like a very nice guy and you seem to be happy with your boyfriend. But you shouldn't meddle in other people's lives you know? That's rude.' 

 

Oliver is at loss about what to do so he just nods. 

 

'I don't like hurting people. Violence is so... empty. Only insane people get pleasure out of it.' He smiles to himself. 'But I'm not insane. I only use it when I need to. So I'm not going to hurt you. Don't worry.' 

 

He pats Oliver's head awkwardly and his head burns on the places where it feels like all the blood Philip has on his hands bleeds over to Oliver's head. 

 

'They won't be here for a while.' 

 

He drops Oliver's phone on the bed and it lights up immediately with Connor's call. Connor's smile on the picture should be comforting, but Oliver lets out a sob.

 

'I'm sorry to leave you alone so soon, but we need extra food.’ Philip says, almost like he really is sorry. ‘I thought that maybe you found it comforting that your friends are looking for you. Then you won' t be so alone.' 

 

Philip downs the glass again and looks dreamily out of the window.

 

'I know what that's like.' 

 

He grabs the phone and puts it on the nightstand. Oliver had a plan, which involved answering the phone with his nose, but the phone is out of reach now. He wants to cry. 

 

'I'll see you soon!' He smiles at Oliver, as he closes the bedroom door, and then the front door.

 

Oliver lets himself cry freely then. Every second, his phone lights up with a call. Connor, Michaela and even Frank, they all take turns in calling him. Occasionally, Connor sends messages that break Oliver's heart.

 

_Please Oliver you always answer your phone._

 

_I need you to be okay._

 

_We will find you, Ollie. We will._

 

_I love you_

 

Oliver pulls his legs up to his head and he lets the tears fall. He has been so fucking stupid. He should have listened to Connor. Connor will hate himself now. Why did Oliver have to ruin everything with his selfish needs? He had Connor. That was exciting enough. 

 

Oliver allows one other tear and gets determined. _Connor._  He needs to get back to Connor.

 

Suddenly, he notices his shoes and gets an idea. Oliver kicks his shoes out and then removes his socks with his feet. It's not much, it won't help them if he answers and says nothing. But Connor will know he's alive and that is better than nothing.

 

_I could've tracked the call._  He tries not to think about that.

 

He rearranges himself and shuffles as far to his right as he can. With his foot he can easily reach the phone and he allows himself to be a little proud. The phone doesn't ring for a few moments. Oliver prays to all the things he doesn't believe in to please, _please_ ask Connor to call one more time. He's on the verge of screaming against the tape out of frustration, when the phone lights up with Connor's picture. Oliver laughs through his tears and swipes the yes button with his toe.

 

'Ohmygod.' He hears Michaela say.

 

'Oliver?' Connor asks with a voice that is broken and sounds relieved and scared at the same time. Oliver mumbles as hard as he can against the tape. Connor lets out a sob. The background noise suddenly becomes a chaos of multiple voices screaming at him.

 

'Frank track the fucking call!' Laurel shouts.

 

'Are you alone?' 

 

'Was it Philip?' 

 

'Where are you?' 

 

'He cannot answer that you dumbass!" Michaela says to Frank.

 

Connor had remained silent so far, but now asks. 'Are you hurt?' 

 

Oliver tries to sound negative, but all his sounds are the same and he's not sure Connor has made out the right answer. All of a sudden, there is a lot of muffling and screams from Connor to _give his fucking phone back_ and then Annalise's voice comes on loud and clear: 'Are you at Philip's house?' 

 

_'Yes!'_ He screams against the tape, hoping it comes across. _'Yes yes!'_

 

_'_ We will be there soon.' Annalise simply says, as if she wants to end the call, but Oliver wants to hear _his_ voice again. Even for one second. He needs to hold on to it.

 

She hesitates, as if she has guessed it.

 

Connor cries, 'I love you!' and then the line goes dead and Oliver is alone again. He uses Connor’s voice to soothe him and the frantic voices of the rest of the house to reassure himself that they will find him. He wishes Connor would call him again, so he could see the picture on his screen, but he doesn’t.

 

It takes forever for Philip to come back. He raises his eyebrow when he sees Oliver's shoes on the ground. Oliver really needs him to misunderstand. He does.

 

'It is quite hot in here, isn't it?' Oliver was already sweating, so he nods. Philip opens a window and all he can see is one more opening for Connor to get to him. 

 

'I got you a few snacks, for if you get hungry maybe.' Philip says as he unpacks the bag. 'I don't know what you like exactly, so I just bought the snacks people usually have.'  
  
He sounds... insecure. Oliver would almost start to feel sorry for him. He brings a bag of salt and vinegar crisps to him and awkwardly places it on the nightstand, right over his phone.  
  
'Maybe you should get some rest.' He says, placing a blanket over Oliver. 'Tomorrow's going to be a long day.'  
  
'Yes Philip.' A deep voice says from behind Philip. 'Especially for you.'  
  
There is a loud bang and then the clattering of a pan falling on the ground. Philip sacks down like a doll and reveals the sight of Frank and Laurel behind him. Laurel moves to him and starts to remove the tape off of his mouth, while Frank starts working on his bondage. Laurel babbles continuously in an attempt to distract him. ‘We were so worried, Oliver. So worried. You’re never doing anything for us again do you hear me?’

 

Oliver tests the feeling of breathing through his mouth again and clears his throat to try to talk. ‘Connor.’ He whispers hoarsely. ‘Where is Connor?’

‘In your apartment.’ Frank replies, releasing his hands. ‘That kid went hysterical. He would’ve given us away in a second.’

 

Oliver looks at his wrists that turned red from pulling them. Laurel hands him his socks and shoes, but Oliver stands up without putting them on and runs out of the apartment. He doesn’t look at Philip or the number of the apartment. He just screams: ‘C’mon!’ and Laurel follows him to the car. He wants to go home. He doesn’t want to stay there any second longer. She drives them to their apartment and silence apparently drives her mad, since she just continues talking.

 

‘Frank will handle it. That’s all you need to know. You are officially not involved in anything anymore. Connor went _crazy_. And I thought I saw him crazy. I’m glad you never had to see it.’

 

She shoots him a quick glance and Oliver thinks _I know exactly how he is when he’s in panic._ But he says nothing and fixes his eyes on the road to calculate how long until he gets home.

 

The car ride is a blur to him. He manages to put his shoes on, while Laurel continues to chatter to him in the background, but he doesn’t hear or see anything. He doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to know where Philip’s apartment is, and how long it takes from their apartment to his. He doesn’t even want to recognise it, even if he was forced to go there again, but that’s probably too much to ask.

 

After what feels like hours, Laurel stops the car and Oliver focusses to see his apartment. He doesn’t think and just runs. All the energy and emotions he’s been building up come out all at once. He runs three floors up, because the lift is too slow and he needs to be there as soon as possible. He needs to see their door sign. Connor’s and his. He needs to see Connor.

 

When he reaches the third floor and sees his door closed, he screams Connor’s name with all his heart. He only has to wait a few beats before the door is torn open with extreme force and he is faced with Connor. Another beat passes as they take each other in.

 

Oliver didn’t think it was possible, but he looks even _worse_ than that night. His eyes are thick and still wet from all the crying and his hair is everywhere, as if he’d wanted to tear it out. But the fear in his eyes from that night is replaced with complete and utter despair and terror, that turns to relief in a second.

 

He dives into Connor’s arms. He buries his face in his neck and smells the familiar smell of Connor. He traces the patterns of his back that he knows by heart now and the only sounds he can produce are ‘Connor’ and ‘I’m sorry’ and even they come out wrong since it’s hard to talk when you’re crying.

 

Connor is the same. They clash into a wall and he holds Oliver as if he will never let go. He peppers kisses wherever he can reach and only says ‘I love you’ and ‘You’re safe’. Michaela and Wes leave, slamming the door shut behind them, and that makes Oliver wince. Connor makes a broken sound and tries to pull him impossibly closer.

 

They stay like that for a long time and neither of them want to break apart.


End file.
